Speak of the Devil
by friend9810
Summary: The five times Stiles visited Peter at Eichen House and the one time that things changed.
1. Chapter 1

Peter was utterly bored. A month in what was basically a maximum security prison would do that to a person. What was worse than that was he still had a long time until he got out. He would get out. And when he did get out he would be smarter about his power play and not make the same mistakes twice. It was all just a matter of patience and that was something that Peter had gotten quite skilled with over the years. Growing up he was never that patient of a kid, but as he got older he learned that often waiting and watching from the background produced the best results. Patience and time would be the key to getting out of here and Peter had all the time in the world.

He was laying on the poor excuse of a bed staring at the bland beige ceiling because that was all there was to do. He already did his usual routine of push-ups and the like, something that when he first was put there he had to force himself to do since (and he would never openly admit this) he felt weak. The wolfesbane drug had done a number on him and he hated it. He couldn't properly shift, he felt vulnerable and vulnerability was something that Peter once promised himself he would never feel again. He couldn't talk to his cellmate because one look at his creepy cyclops eye almost drove him insane (again). Peter decided to do his damndest to never look at the man again. It was a pain, and staring at the walls brought some unwelcomed memories of his time in the coma, but as he always did: he would do whatever was necessary to survive.

During the times when Peter did not have homicidal urges towards all those responsible for his predicament, he tried to look on the more positive bits because those are what would keep him as sane as possible. Thinking about all the things he would do when he got out was something that he found was relaxing to do. He would think about buying much better clothes than his current ones, eating edible food such as a steak and maybe having a glass of wine with it, and buying some reading material. Which, yes, lack of reading material was an issue and Peter was hated it. He had nothing to read and although a month of this hellhole had lowered his standards significantly, he would not stoop to reading cheap romance novels. Apparently at some point he would be able to request books but he had no idea when that day would come.

At the risk of the sounding like a thwarted Scooby-Doo villain, Peter cursed that meddling Scott McCall.

Just when Peter was going to shut his eyes in hopes of some sleep there was a noise outside of the cell. His werewolf hearing may be impaired but he still he could hear such a loud commotion as his least favorite guard, Tobias, heading his way. Peter sat up and looked as the man dressed in all white scrubs came walking towards the door. At first Peter thought it was for his daily dose of wolfesbane drugs, but he quickly remembered that he already had that earlier this morning.

"Hale, you have a visitor." The man spoke with a gruff voice. At this Peter raised his eyebrows. Who in the world would like to visit him? Peter's thoughts were interrupted as Tobias continued on, "I'm going to let you out. Try anything and I'll put you down like the dog you are."

Peter tried his best to refrain from snarling. It took everything he had in him and instead nodded and remained blank faced as he got up to go towards the door. Snarling and snark was not needed in this situation, this called for a role to be played and Peter was the best actor there was. Tobias escorted him out of the cell and Peter felt so exhilarated. After a month of nothing but that cell, caged like an animal, he was let out, no matter how limited the freedom.

He was led down several hallways that all looked exactly the same. He saw other inmates, some looking more normal than others, Peter longed to find the other supernatural creatures of prison but that time would come sooner rather than later. After walking down one more hallway he was led into a plain room with a table and two chairs. Peter let his mind drift a bit and decided that one of these days they should invest in an interior decorator. The guard had him sit down in of the chairs. Not soon long, after though someone walked in, more specifically it was Stiles.

"Well this is a surprise." Peter said as he looked the teenager over. He was even more surprised when the guard left the two alone.

Stiles sat down in the chair across from Peter looking both nervous, angry, and annoyed. "I'm just here to see if you know anything about witches, specifically the Bromwell clan."

Peter let out a laugh. It was loud and most likely bothersome to Stiles but Peter could not help it. After everything, _Stiles _of all people was coming to him for help. _Stiles_ the only one that he never really gained any trust from even when Derek and Scott did. Once Peter calmed down he smiled, "I'm sorry Stiles, I really am, it's just after a month of this hell you coming here asking for information is pretty funny."

"Yeah, well, I ran out of options."

"You must be truly desperate to come to me for help." Peter replied with a feral grin. After so much isolation human interaction felt great, it was almost like a high for Peter.

Stiles furrowed his eyebrows and somehow managed to look even more annoyed. "Did you just quote _Thor_?"

Peter merely shrugged, "Loki was a really interesting character."

Stiles shook his head and Peter could tell he was suppressing a smirk. "Did you even have time to catch up on movies in between planning everyone's demise?"

"I wasn't going to kill _everyone._" Peter said and it was the truth. He did not want to kill Derek or Malia, or even Stiles. He mostly just wanted to kill Scott and Kate. "And I had plenty of nights when I would catch up on books and movies I missed during my six-year stint as a less cold Captain America. I don't get to do that anymore though."

Stiles simply rolled his eyes at this, "This is your fault. You brought this upon yourself." Maybe it was the wolfesbane drug or maybe he was completely correct when he felt that Stiles was saying that more for himself than for Peter. It almost sounded like a mantra that Stiles had to tell himself. Did he feel guilty about Peter's predicament? Peter would be shocked if was, but regardless Peter decided to push the boundaries a bit.

"I know I've done terrible things, but even Charles Manson gets some TV or at the very least some decent reading material."

Stiles looked like he was contemplating his reply and Peter thought he was going to admit something, but instead Stiles opted for a different route. "Look, if it wasn't super important I would definitely not be here. You're not exactly my favorite person and I hate this place, but truthfully Malia and Lydia got involved in some deep complicated mess and Liam got included and now he got cursed and is dying. No one knows what to do, not even Deaton. So any information would be great."

"Liam?"

Stiles looked genuinely confused for a moment before saying, "Scott's beta? We all went down to Mexico together? Memory getting kind of short there, zombie wolf?"

"I didn't pay attention to his name. I had better things on mind." Peter said with a shrug. Then he sighed dramatically. Helping out could only lead to good things. It's why Derek didn't try to kill him the second he came back from the dead. It might help save from this hell too. "All right, I'll tell you everything I can."

At this Stiles' eyes lit up and he looked almost hopeful. Almost. "What's the catch?

Peter grinned showing all his teeth. "Nothing too taxing. A pack of reeses and a book would be lovely."

It almost looked like Stiles wasn't going to go for it but then the Stiles nodded and suddenly Peter felt better than ever. "All right. Here is what you need to know. Aggie Bromwell is-"

They talked for another twenty minutes. Peter giving whatever information he knew and Stiles asking a thousand different questions. Two days later Peter was greeted with a pack of Reeses and the first Game of Thrones book.

He hoped another supernatural crisis would arise again so his help was needed. Then, again, it was Beacon Hills. Something was always bound to happen.


	2. Chapter 2

Three weeks later Peter had finished the Reeses and the book. He had planned on spending even more time on the book since it was like a blissful mental getaway, but it was so good that he finished sooner then he would have liked.

Valack was as usual silent, too busy wrapped up in his own novel (Peter did some thinking and came to the conclusion that if he ever got to the point where he found those pathetic excuses for novels enjoyable, he would take a wolfesbane bullet to the head). The two hardly ever talked which was just something that ticked Peter off more. As the Calaveras once said, Peter loved to hear the sound of his own voice. Occasionally he still would talk, even if it was just out loud to himself, he'd usually do this when he knew Valack wanted quiet, the creep would get so annoyed by the interruption.

It was the little things in life that could brighten Peter's day.

He also found comfort in noticing how Tobias looked at him with more loathing than usual. He must have hated giving Peter the amenities that Stiles requested. It was a small victory, and the guard would probably try to pull something one day, but for now Peter would take all that life was handing him. He would take it all and use it to his advantage as he had always done so soon he could break free of this pit. Needless to say things were looking better, granted better from a hellhole is a still a hellhole. Now he had something to look forward to since he knew Stiles would be back. It was _Beacon Hills_. Some supernatural crisis always came to light and Peter knew more about the supernatural than anyone else.

Lo and behold Tobias came knocking on the door and looking more hateful than ever. Peter was actually somewhat surprised as he expected a longer period of waiting for Stiles to come back again. "Something wrong?" Peter asked the guard with fake pleasantry as he stood up off the cot and walked over to the door. He probably shouldn't be as cocky as he was acting, but the day that Peter would be afraid of some human with a baton would be the day the apocalypse starts.

The look on Tobias' face was so precious that Peter wished he could have a picture of it. His face was tinted red, eyebrows furrowed, Peter thought a vein was going to pop. It took everything Peter had in him to not laugh. "Yeah there is, I hate that you're allowed out, Hale. I hate that some punk can come in here and request to visit you. If it were up to me I would have killed you long ago."

Peter laughed. He gave the guard a look over from head to toe, inspecting the man's scrawny limbs and small frame. "As if you could. I think I would be more threatened by a girl scout. Actually, I know I would be more threatened by a girl scout."

For a few seconds Peter thought that the man was going to try to strike Peter. He noticed that Tobias did more his hand closer to his weapon but he did not draw it. He was kind of hoping to get a real rile out of this guy but apparently today was not that day, Instead, Tobias just looked downright murderous, remained silent, and led Peter though the same series of hallways as last time. Peter was making it his task to memorize the route just in case he ever needed it. They got to the same room as last time but this time was different as Stiles was already sitting in the chair waiting for him.

"Back so soon? A little needy aren't you?" Peter said with a smirk. He sat down across from the teen, Tobias then left the two of them alone. All of this feeling like de ja vu.

"I would say don't think too highly of yourself but you are the most egotistical person I know." Stiles replied. Peter noticed right away that there was something wrong with the way Stiles responded. He looked at the teen more closely and noticed just how exhausted he looked. Dark circles under his eyes, his voice was void of the usual high amounts of emotions. He looked worse than Peter, which was saying something Peter has been locked away in Eichen House for several months. Overall, it reminded Peter of how Stiles looked during the whole Nogitsune business.

Peter was going to ask why the teen looked like something out of _The Walking Dead_, but he chose to take the conversation into a different direction instead. "I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth but why are you here? Did everything work out with the Bromwell clan?"

Stiles shrugged. "As best as it could have gone. Ran them out of town and everyone is still alive." Peter was seriously wondering what was wrong at this point. Stiles sounded so monotone and frankly it was starting to make Peter a bit uneasy. It was so unnatural for Stiles. The teen continued on, "What do you know about elves?"

"I'm assuming you're not talking about the Keebler variety?" Peter replied with a smirk. Lore about Elves were common knowledge, even Derek knew their strengths and weaknesses. The pack must have encountered the rare, darker kind. Typical.

Peter sighed, "Let me guess these elves have nearly all black eyes and have already tried to kill you? You've already tried to the basic things that should have killed them, but they won't die." He knew exactly what type of elf they were dealing with and this would be a pain in the ass for them.

"Exactly!" Stiles exclaimed. There was a mix of enthusiasm and annoyance lurking in his voice. "We've tried almost everything and nothing is working. I told Derek that it was probably some other type of elf, but in classic Derek fashion he would not listen. He would not listen to me at all and so here I am."

Peter had to resist rolling his eyes. Leave it to his nephew to ignore the one person in the pack who had the intelligence to figure out what was going on. "You're dealing with dark elves. All of the commotion from the past year must have drawn them again, especially your ritual with the nematon. Dark elves are nearly impossible to kill, any elf is difficult to kill, but especially dark elves. They really can only be taken down by a specific poison—"

Stiles interrupted. "Of course we would get involved in the nearly impossibly beings to kill. Just our luck." Stiles grumbled. Probably wondering how he ever got involved in all these messes in the first place, though truthfully the answer was sitting across from him.

"Well you are in luck. I've always found these type of things interesting and so I know what you need. Do you have a pen and paper?" Peter said. Stiles looked mildly confused for a while but then nodded and handed him a piece of plain notebook paper and a pen. Peter started writing down everything that Stiles would need to find. He explained each step to the teen in detail and answered any question that Stiles posed. When he finally finished going over everything after over a half an hour of talking he handed the paper over to Stiles who in turn gave him a skeptical look.

"What's the catch?" Stiles asked.

Peter thought for a moment. He wasn't sure how he wanted to reply but the settled for, "No catch. This one is a freebie. You look like you need to catch a break."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You look worse than you did when you possessed. Go take care of the dark elves then try to get some rest." Peter said hoping the words didn't sound as out of place as he felt they were because he really did mean it. He liked Stiles and did not want to see Stiles waste away and that was the path he seemed to be currently going down.

"I'm being pitied by _you? _My life does suck." Stiles groaned while ruffling his hair. "There's just been a lot going on. College searching, Scott problems, pack problems, financial problems. I basically have a never-ending list of problems. I've barely have had any time to myself and it's the worst. And now I'm telling you this which means I'm much worse off than I thought."

Peter took all this information in and processed it. He was just as surprised as Stiles about the openly admittance of his problems. Especially that he was having problems with Scott. That was new. Peter had an idea, he just hoped he wouldn't regret it. "You know, I don't think anyone has been checking up on my apartment. I paid for a year's rent in advance so I shouldn't have any problems but it would be beneficial if someone would go make sure everything is in order." He looked at Stiles pointedly.

"Not going to happen." Stiles replied.

"I have a lot of books on magic and other supernatural creatures. Anyone who was interested in that sort of thing would love it." Peter went on with a smile. He could see the temptation in Stiles' eyes.

Stiles looked like he was contemplating things. Peter wondered if he was going to accept the offer or not as he took his time to reply. "I am going to regret this. I'll be your den-sitter."

"Excellent. Now don't give anyone else this address or I will make you suffer a pain so great you will be wishing for death." Peter gave a big wolfish grin as he wrote down his address on the paper. Stiles just rolled his eyes.

He was already regretting his decision.


	3. Chapter 3

"Your boy-toy is here yet again?" Valack asked as Peter was back to the cell. The clang of the door shutting rang out behind him. Peter was almost surprised to see the man put down his latest novel long enough for a chat.

Peter just rolled his eyes. He was in a pretty happy mood. He did not need Valack to ruin that for him. However, he did decide to indulge Valack into conversation even if he had a feeling he would regret it. "My boy-toy? Hardly." He sat down on the poor excuse of cot that they provided him with, sitting across from his cellmate.

"He's been visiting quite often. Isn't he a bit young for you?"

This time Peter snorted and then went on to say, "He is just using me for information. The rest of the pack is too scared to even come within twenty feet of this place." And for the most part he believed this to be the truth. Lydia and Malia most likely wanted nothing to do with him or Eichen House. Both girls had enough bad experiences with him, what with him almost driving Lydia insane and being Malia's father. Scott would find coming to Peter for information to be morally compromising as he never looked for solutions that might involve even the tiniest glimpse of a grey-area. As for Derek…he wasn't quite sure about Derek besides that his loving nephew was probably upset that Peter wasn't as reformed as he wanted. He probably was still hanging on to some that last thread of family bond, though his new girlfriend might have helped him get over that.

"He comes here pretty often for just using you." Valack said and although Peter was not looking at the man (because he rarely ever did. After that first time he chose to never look at Valack because he didn't need to be driven even more insane than he already was) he could tell Valack was looking smug and probably had irritating smirk on his face.

"He's been here twice. That's not often. The pack isn't the brightest bunch, they need all the help they can get sometimes." Peter replied.

His voice was full of amusement when Valack said, "Whatever you need to tell yourself." Not for the first time did Peter contemplate hitting his head against the wall. It was almost like having a less-better looking, not as intelligent, British version of himself as a cellmate. Then Valack continued to talk, "If your pack is really that concerned about this place and of you, I wonder how they feel about him visiting."

Peter let the conversation die there. He had thought about this since the first time Stiles walked into the 'visitor' room. He assumed that the pack knew and because of the circumstances was okay with Stiles going to Peter for help. That was until Stiles mentioned having Scott and pack problems. Then Peter just got even more curious, he wanted to ask Stiles about it but he knew that these things needed to be handled a certain way and patience was needed. Luckily for him over the years he had become more patient than he used to be. He knew that things would reveal themselves in time.

Time came quicker than Peter expected. The guard came for Peter a week later and he went through the usual process before sitting down in the chair to wait for Stiles to show up. When the teen entered he looked healthier, some color was back in his cheeks and he looked less like the undead. Peter took a small pride in the fact that he was partly the reason Stiles was somewhat better. However, even though Stiles looked better he also looked slightly angry about something.

Knowing that Stiles was not in a good mood Peter thought it was his duty to add to his misery. "Should I even bother asking why you are here? What information do you need me for this time?" He said in a bored tone.

"Can't a guy just visit an asylum just for fun?" Stiles said as he sat down in the chair across from Peter who gave him a skeptical look. Stiles sighed and went on to say, "It's a long story."

'Damn. That's too bad. I'm so busy rotting away in here that I don't have any time at all for your charming tale." Peter replied, a smirk playing on his lips.

Stiles rolled his eyes, trying to appear more annoyed than he actually was. "I guess there is no reason to not complain to you. It's not like you are getting out anytime soon." At this Peter huffed in indignation which Stiles ignored. "Well for starters: I was never supposed to come here. When everything went south with the witches no one knew what to do. I knew you probably had information, but I also knew Scott and the others would be dead set against going to you for it. Obviously, I went anyways because I needed to save Liam."

"Then the pack found out." Peter said thoughtfully.

"Yeah. They put two and two together. There was no way I just pulled the cure out of my ass. They knew something was up. Then Derek smelt your scent on me and all hell broke loose."

"However you came back a second time…" Peter ventured. He didn't blame Stiles for coming back when he needed to. Stiles was both intelligent and resourceful. He was not going to let any resource such as Peter not be put to use when it could very well solve whatever problem that needed solving quicker. Also, Stiles was not afraid to get his hands dirty. Another reason Peter liked him.

Stiles nodded. He put his arm up to rub the back of his neck looking as though he felt awkward. "Yeah. Again I needed to. No one would listen to me even though I was right. The good thing was that they didn't think I would go back here after they scolded me the last time. They're mistake. I gave them the information and the elves were taken care of." He paused and Peter thought that he was going to stop talking about situation, but then Stiles continued on. "Later they did find out. Scott confronted me about it and things were said. I'm sure we'll go back to be being best friends but it was just too much for me to handle. We've never really had a huge fight like this before, but he needs to understand that I am almost an adult. I know what I am doing, I am not stupid about it, and nothing terrible is going to happen. Basically I got angry and stormed off and now here I am."

Peter processed this. He was surprised to hear that such a rift was formed with him and Scott. He knew like Stiles said that those two will forgive and forget—they were basically brothers—but for now Peter was relishing in the fact that he was partially responsible for their recent fallout. He might have felt a bit of remorse if Stiles had done anything wrong, but he didn't. He simply did what he thought was necessary and what was best for the pack. One thing did not add up though.

"So how did they eventually find out about last time? They must know or else you wouldn't look so—oh." The reason hit him like a stack of bricks. He couldn't help the grin that broke out when he said the next words. "You went to my apartment. They caught the scent."

Stiles paled a bit but nodded in confirmation none the less. "Yeah. I was curious and your library is impressive. Not to mention your bed is the comfiest thing in the world."

"I don't know. The cots here are pretty comfortable too." Peter said. Sometimes he was with the belief that if you can't joke about hardships they just become depressing.

Stiles laughed. "Dude, I've slept on those things. They make laying on a pile of rocks seem enjoyable."

At this Peter began to laugh too until he calmed down and asked, "So you basically came here to piss them off even more?"

Stiles shrugged and gave a small smile. "Yeah I guess so."

Peter thought that this was better entertainment then he could ever ask for.

A/N: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed/favorite/followed/anything! You guys are amazing.


	4. Chapter 4

"I demand a transfer." Peter said matter-of-factly as Stiles entered the room. The teen had been visiting more frequently ever since their last chat, almost twice a week, and although he Peter was grateful for their chats for it made the mundane existence in the cell so much more bearable he still did not want to spend another second in it. Stile sat down across from Peter as per usual and looked like he was contemplating the idea so Peter pressed further, "Just another cell. I don't even care. But, if I have to spend one more minute with Valack I will run my head into the wall repeatedly and end my misery."

Stiles smiled. "Would that be such a terrible thing? The world might be better off from it." Peter looked utterly unamused which just caused Stiles to laugh. "Besides, you are too egotistical to actually do that to yourself."

"He keeps trying to use his Jedi mind trick on me and soon I'm going to go more insane than I already am. And don't even get me started on those romance novels." Peter groaned much to Stiles' enjoyment.

Even though Stiles was not taking it as serious as Peter would have liked, Peter was determined to get away from the deranged cyclops. Yes, Peter made mistakes, but he did not believe he deserved this kind of torture. Peter was honestly surprised that he lived through the first two times he stared into the void that was Valack's mind. The first time being Peter's own drugged state of mind being lapsing in judgment and looking at it voluntarily. This last time though Valack was aggressive, something Peter was not expecting. He was forced to look at the damned thing and that was when he decided if he couldn't escape this hellhole, he would at least move to another room.

"Have you tried to talk it out? Communication is the key to fixing roommate problems. I learned that from a college visit yesterday." Stiles said with a wink. Peter felt that if circumstances were different he would be incredibly annoyed and continue to grumble about all the ways the world has wronged him. But he wasn't, instead he was oddly content. He still hated the Valack situation, but he couldn't be mad at Stiles and he didn't want to be such an irritant that the boy would scamper off. It probably helped that over the past few weeks Peter decided that the two of them were some sort of dysfunctional friends and that he actually cared for the boy. Though if anyone asked if he truly cared for Stiles, Peter would blame it on the wolfesbane currently running through his veins.

"I think my roommate problem are a little more intense and important than someone locking their roommate out all the time so that they can have sex on the two by four beds." A smile escaped Peter's lips.

The brown haired teen laughed, "Aw were that guy that was always sexiled out his room?"

"Actually I was the most perfect roommate. Never was in the room much and when I was I kept mostly to myself unless I was feeling particularly social.' Peter shrugged and then continued on, "My roommate might have had a problem with me though. One day he just abruptly left. I saw him one afternoon in our room, left for an hour, and when I came back everything on his side was gone. Thankfully he did leave the Reeses I had stored in his fridge behind."

Stiles was silent for a minute and then said, "You really love Reeses don't you?"

"You cannot deny that they are delectable." And now Peter really wanted one of the chocolate-peanut butter delights. He'd have to ask Stiles before he leaves if he would send some. Like a lot of things in Peter's life, what was probably a horrible ordeal for someone else was great for him. Stiles may have almost gotten killed by that guard, but it meant that Eichen House let him slide on a lot of things such as this visit and a few of the amenities that he has sent.

Peter decided to steer the conversation into a different direction, "So what school have you decided on?"

"UC Davis. Far enough away from Beacon Hills that I can visit whenever I want and possibly help out with any supernatural occurrences if I feel like it, but far enough away that I don't have to deal with a lot of the drama."

The werewolf had an idea of what that drama entailed. Not just the supernatural mayhem that always seemed to follow the teen and his friends wherever they went, but the rift that was forming between Stiles and a certain true alpha. He and Stiles never talked about Scott after the visit when Stiles revealed that he and Peter's former beta were fighting because of Stiles' visits. After that a sort of unspoken rule fell between them that they would not talk about Scott or Derek.

So Peter just opted for nodding and saying, "Good school. Have a major in mind?" He almost regretted saying those words. He remembered when he was a senior in high school and almost constantly asked that question, he loathed it. Mostly because people asked all the time. He was never happier than when he decided on a history major so that he would have something to tell people, but then of course he got the inevitable question of "what are you going to do with _that_?".

Stiles didn't look concerned about it though. "Not really. They have so many majors to choose from! The list goes on and on. I already know I want to take a class in Medieval—" He was going to finish his sentence but a beeping noise rang from his pocket. He pulled out his cell phone and checked the messages, quickly typing back a reply. He looked back up at Peter. "Sorry about that. It's my dad. He reminded me we have dinner plans tonight. I completely forgot so I might have cut our visit short."

"It's okay. It was a pleasure as always. Tell your father I said hi."

Stiles snorted as he stood up out of his chair, "Yeah cause that would go over well. I'll be back soon." He was right about to reach the door when Peter spoke again.

"Oh and Stiles? A room change really would be great if you could pull it off. I mean it when I say I don't think I could survive another two weeks with that man."

"I'll see what I can do.' Stiles nodded.

Two days later Peter was escorted out his regular cell and moved to one of his very own. He was still in the supernatural unit and the new cell was still made out of mountain ash, but he no longer had Valack to worry about.

And to make his victory sweeter a large pack of Reese cups were waiting for him along with three more books.


End file.
